


A Real Story

by BiPagan



Category: Fairy Tales and Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 16:30:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiPagan/pseuds/BiPagan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beta’ed by <a href="http://taeli.livejournal.com/profile">taeli</a> and <a href="http://pinguinochica.livejournal.com/profile">pinguinochica</a>. The Comma Queens, from which all commas flow, sometimes correctly.</p>
<p>My favorite fairy tales are The 12 Dancing Princesses and The Snow Queen.  When I received your request, I thought hard about what to write but an idea didn’t appear  until I fell asleep that night.  It doesn’t follow The Snow Queen exactly and I took liberties with the idea of “princess” and “witch” but I do hope I gave you a feminist fairy tale that "subverts the assumption that women are in competition with one another and otherwise need male saviors."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Real Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rayzel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayzel/gifts).



_“Granny, tell me a story,” demanded the little boy as he climbed into the old woman’s lap._

_“Alright, go and get your storybook,” said the old woman as she tried to shoo him off her lap._

_“No, no, not one of those, a real story,” exclaimed the little boy._

_“A real story?”_

_“Yes! Tell me about when you were a girl,” explained the little boy._ _  
  
_ _“Well, then I shall have to take you back with me, a long way in time...”_ (1)  
  
When I was your age, there was a woman in the village named Marna.  She was deeply in love with Damian and had been since the village guards brought her, an orphaned little girl, into the village.  Damian was the first person she met her age and they bonded instantly.  His family took her in, since she had nowhere else to go. Back then, everyone lived in all the different houses in the village, keeping to themselves and bartering what they had.  It was the job of the children in the village to scavenge through the rubble and the old broken down homes that were left for anything of use and take these bits and bobs to their families.  “You never know what might be useful” was the saying of the village.  

Marna and Damian were the most adventurous and would go farther into those scary homes than any of the other children.  One home on Main Street caught Marna’s attention and she decided to make it into their secret place.  She and Damian would clean it up and anything shiny would be locked in the back shed.    
  
It wasn’t until years later when they were much older that they came upon the idea of everyone living together.  “We are a small village,” Marna said to each of the villagers, “why should the grannies and grampies live in separate houses and struggle alone?  We should live together in the biggest houses left standing and take care of each other.”  
  
With Damian’s help, she moved the grannies and grampies on to the first floor, making all livable room into bedrooms.  They shared rooms and the extra bodies kept the rooms warm on cold nights.  Those who could climb stairs, such as children and their parents, moved to rooms on the second and third floors of the home. Marna and Damian took the smallest room in the attic.

The year we moved into the big house was such an idyllic time with everyone sharing and caring for one another that we had forgotten The Moira’s yearly request for volunteers.  The request was open to men and women about to turn 30 but no one knew who would be chosen.  The curious part of the request was The Moira seemed to know who wasn’t needed by the village or who had dreamed of going with the guards to work for The Moira in her city.  Often when someone had wanderlust, that person would go straight to the guards and volunteer themselves. But life had so changed that when the guards came to collect volunteers no one wanted to leave the village. No one wanted to see what was beyond the farm fields.  No one wanted to explore the nearby mountains.

The Moira was the ruler of the village and the surrounding area.  She made sure our water stayed clean and flowed freely.  She ensured no village was ever attacked.  And in return, she asked for help from a healthy adult in each village every year.  Much of the time, that volunteer would stay for more than their required two years.  If they did return to the village, they came back with tales of a city clean and beautiful and stories of the mysterious Moira, who would insist on the volunteer taking a gift in return for their service.  Sometimes the village would receive a gift as well.  New herd animals or seeds to plant were a favorite for the farmers who kept the village well fed.  The choosing was always a time of great joy for the village.  But we forgot.  So the guards were confused when they roared their cycles into village and no one cheered them.  “Where are all the people,” they murmured to each other.  Searching around, they found all of us in the fields helping the farmers. 

“What is this?  No kind words for The Moira’s boys?  No offers of something to drink after our ride in from her city?” They had to yell to be heard by all.

At first, we all were confused.  Was it time already?  How embarrassing to be caught unaware and to have nothing prepared for these fine representatives of The Moira.  Marna stood up from crouching on the ground, wiped the sweat from her forehead with her arm, and said, “Of course.  How silly of us.  Come to the house.  Let’s all take a break.”  With a  smile toward Damian, she led the able bodied back to the house.  Everyone had the same question on their mind, “Who did The Moira choose?”

I, along with other children, raced back to the house to tell the grannies and grampies that The Moira’s boys had come to village.  They gathered food and drink and had it ready in the dining room by the time everyone returned.

The Moira’s boys were shocked by the house.  Never had they seen a village where everyone lived together.  “There are so many rooms in this house,” said Damian, “so we conserve our resources and stick together.  No one has to live alone any more, unless they want to.  The grannie and grampies help teach the children.  We all work and cook and take care of each other.  It was Marna’s idea and we’re all quite happy.”  The Moira’s boys did not look impressed.

It was then that the leader of The Moira’s boys stood up from his meal and took out a roll of paper and read the name of who was to go to The Moira’s city - Damian.  Everyone was shocked because not many men had returned from working in The Moira’s city in recent years.  “We need him,” was heard murmered by more than one mouth.

Damian sighed and said, “I will return” before heading up the stairs to pack a bag.  Marna followed and when they were alone, they hugged and kissed each other goodbye.

“I think it will be a great adventure,” said Marna, “but don’t forget to come home.”  And with that she placed a cuff of metal around his wrist.  “It is your birthday gift.  Actually, I’m surprised one of us wasn’t chosen by The Moira before now.  Be well my love.”

“Two years will pass swiftly,” Damian said as he kissed her one last time.

Not long after Damian left for The Moira, Marna grew sick.  The children were worried for her but the other adults knew what was happening, even if Marna did not.  The grannies gave her herbs to chew to ease her stomach.  A few months passed and Marna suddenly stopped being sick, but her clothing had grown tight.  Marna realized she was pregnant.  The Moira had never before chosen a man who was to be a father.  Marna turned to grannies and grampies for advice.  “I wish to leave for The Moira’s city and get Damian back.”  But the grannies and grampies said it wouldn’t be wise because she carried twins and she needed to be careful with herself.  “I need Damian,” Marna insisted.  

“He will return,” they replied knowing she was scared and needed that comfort.

Marna grew rounder but sicker than before.  The grannies and grampies were worried and insisted she sleep on the first floor with them.  When the cramping came earlier then expected, they helped her as they did all birthing women.  But this was far too soon and only one babe came out.  “It was a girl,” they told her.  

Marna said sadly, “I guess God didn’t want you to live.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” said one of the grannies looking at the others, “and still you have your boy to birth yet.  We’ll keep you healthy Marna.”

“How do you know it will be a boy,” Marna asked.

“It is,” they said.

Marna did get healthier and eventually gave birth to a boy she named Ian.  The grannies and grampies taught her how to diaper him, breastfeed, and even how to wear him by wrapping cloth around her body. (2)

Ian wasn’t a week old before Marna said at dinner, “I’m leaving to get Damian.  He’s needed by the village and it was unfair that The Moira took him.”

The grannies and grampies said, “The Moira will not let him go.”

“Whether she wills it or not, he will return when he looks upon his son.  I’ll force her to give him back,” she said grasping a knife.

“Give us a week to help you,” was all they said.

That week the grannies and grampies were very busy in one of the machine buildings.  They blacked out the windows and kept the doors locked to stop those who snooped around.  At the end of the week, Marna wrapped Ian to her chest, put her nipple in his mouth, grabbed her bag, and set out the door to walk to The Moira’s city. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” said one of the grannies before a roar of an engine came around the corner.  It was a cycle like no one had seen before and on it sat a granny.  “If you are going to The Moira’s city, then this will get you there faster.  It has three wheels so you won’t tumble off and hurt that babe.  It’s called a trike. And these saddlebags will give you someplace to put your things.”

“And,” said one of the grampies, “the hum of the engine will keep Ian asleep the entire time.  But you will need to wear this leather jacket and helmet, just in case.”

The grannies and grampies were right.  Marna got to the city on the same day she left and as she got closer to the city, her gut pulled her toward a large white building.  The city was double the size of the village. Following that gut pull, she got off the trike, put the helmet and jacket in one of the bags, and took out something else she stuck in the back of her pants to keep safe.  Ian was awake so she moved him to her other breast and gave him her nipple.  “Be quiet my dear.  We’re going to get your father.”

Marna walked up a great number of steps before reaching a door far bigger than one she’d ever seen.  She pulled on it and walked down a corridor of portraits.  They all seemed to be of the same woman, only slightly different.  The eyes, hair, or skin color would change yet they all seemed familiar as if Marna knew them somehow.  The corridor led to a round room of glass where a woman stood looking out the window with her back to Marna.  In the middle of the room was a round raised pool of water.  The woman wore long flowing robes of white that billowed out as she turned.  She looked exactly like Marna.  “Hello my dear.  Welcome to my city.”

Shocked as the realization that all the women in those portraits looked liked different versions of The Moira, Marna seemed to forget what to do.  Was she supposed to curtsey or beg or just demand Damian outright.

“Oh, you must be tired after that long ride.  Do have something to drink.”  The Moira moitioned with her hand and a table of drinks appeared to Marna’s left.

“I thank you ma’am but I have come to petition for Damian’s release.  I know it hasn’t yet been two years but as you can see, he has a child.” Marna pulled one of the folds of fabric down to show the baby suckling at her breast.

“A male child, as I understand.  Quite healthy.  Good job keeping your spirits up after you lost the female.  How did you do it?   After all, Damian was here taking care of me during my pregnancy.”  She reached down to touch the water and a flash of sunlight caught the cuff of metal around her wrist, which Marna recognized as her gift to Damian.  A vision of Damian played on the surface of the water as he held a baby in his arms.

Marna flushed with rage, pulled the gun from behind her, and pointed it at The Moira.  “Oh don’t be foolish dear.  After all, we are the same woman.  If you kill me you’ll kill yourself.  And then where would you be?  I took your female child for my pregnancy because we both couldn’t be pregnant with the same child, now could we.  And as you can see, she is full of vitality and joy.  She does love her father.”

“You won’t have Damian.  Bring him here. Show him our son,” Marna exclaimed.

“My sweet sweet dear.  I am the embodiment of The Gods on Earth.  I am an avatar full of their magic. Please, allow me to explain to you.  After all, we are family.”  Before Marna could blink, The Moira was in front of her and kissed her forehead.

_Marna saw The Gods.  All of them quiet for so long bound in an agreement they struck with an upstart lord to not meddle on Earth and give that lord a chance to make Earth a better place. When he saw he had failed, the lord retreated to another planet with his followers leaving Earth and The Gods free of their bonds.  The Gods once more created Avatars to bring order to the world.  In this place, she is called The Moira.  But each Avatar looks similar for she is partly divine.  And when she has a child, it is always a girl who she names Marna and after she is weaned sends to a village under The Moira’s watch. And there are Marna’s in many villages creating a network of demigods ensuring peace on the planet._

The light so bright and Ian suckling so hard brought Marna out of the vision. When Marna looked down, he seemed to glow with the light.  The gun vanished from Marna’s hand.  “Do you understand?  Everytime a Marna becomes pregnant with a female child, so do I, but the Marna miscarries.  After a few years, I send a new Marna out to a new village.  Sometimes, she becomes a leader and brings order to the village.  Your idea was new, but then, you had such a small village to work with that everyone living in a mansion wasn’t that difficult to achieve.  However, it is very rare for a Marna have twins.  If I am to have a female, you couldn’t.  We can’t have the same child.  But your sacrifice, my dear Marna, made this female special.  The Gods have willed that she is an Avatar. You should be proud.  I haven’t yet named her.  Perhaps Sage or Sophia.  There are no ‘S’ villages in the network yet.”

As the light dimmed, Marna saw Damian walking toward The Moira and handing her a baby.  “Damian, who is your beloved?” asked The Moira.

“You are, Marna,” his eyes dulling as he relinquished the child.  Marna realized Damian had been bespelled and attempted to get his attention

“Damian, no! _I_ am Marna! Wake up, Damian!  Wake and be free!” Marna grabbed Damian’s face with both hands and kissed him.  His eyes teared up and brightened again as he looked down at Marna before he began to kiss her back.  When they pulled apart, they found themselves back in the middle of their village. 

“Thank you, Moira.  Blessings to you and our daughter.”

_“And that, child, is the real story,” The Granny says as she tucks the boy into bed and closes the door to the children’s floor and heads for the kitchen._

_“What story did you tell him?” asks a grampy._

_“Your mother’s story.”_

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> (1) Tip of the hat to Manowar 
> 
> (2) http://www.make-baby-stuff.com/make-a-baby-sling.html


End file.
